


The World Can Wait

by orphan_account



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, M/M, crackship????, let ricardt be happy, they’re gay, uhhh gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 09:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16870483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: By no means would it be an easy journey. Ricardt’s anxieties still controlled a large part of his life, even now, after everything- but that didn’t mean he wasn’t working on it.And with Vixel’s support? It didn’t matter how long it took.The world could wait.





	The World Can Wait

**Author's Note:**

> wowza boys it’s been a while oops.  
> i recently got into dragalia lost after i got locked out of my ff account for a while lmao and oh no I’ve immediately latched onto new boys.......   
> (shh dw i have absolutely not fallen out of love w napastel... but i needed to write smth for these boys)   
> before you @ me yes I know these two have never met in canon. this ship was originally a joke w a friend and then uhh all the sudden it wasn’t lmao bls don’t beat me up  
> anyway i would die for vixel and ricardt basically lmao.   
> uhhh I’ve given up on telling people when stuff is coming because i cant even conform to my own deadlines oops  
> but i’m Still Alive!! and writing!! and working on stuff!! so expect some more stuff at some point!! ily all thank you for reading <3

“Is it too cold?”

The words were murmured against the soft skin at the nape of his neck, soft and gentle. The sun had yet to truly crest above the horizon, and Vixel wouldn’t dare wake his lovely partner before he felt it necessary. He didn’t believe in early rising, as much as his body betrayed. He could never seem to sleep in past the sunrise.

A soft shiver caused the warmth wrapped in his arms to tremble, either from the cold or Vixel’s voice he wasn’t sure. Ricardt had always spoken about how he loved his voice, although Vixel couldn’t exactly understand what the blond thought was so interesting. He had his own grievances against his voice, sure, but no one had ever told him that his words alone could bring them comfort and peace. When he was younger he was quite aware of how his singing affected others, but that was years ago. Now things were different.

“N-No,” The voice was barely a whisper, hardly audible even in the relative quiet of the bedroom. Ricardt seemed to shrink, curling tight, back pressed tightly against Vixel’s chest. The conductor only hummed, the fingers of one hand laced with those of his partner’s. “It- it feels good, actually….”

Vixel smiled, a drowsy sort of thing. The week had been busy, but this moment of reprieve was worth the trouble. He owed Prince Euden quite a bit for allowing them time off; the young man had been very kind to the both of them, as he was to all under his influence. Ricardt relaxed in his hold, slowly, the ever-present tenseness in his shoulders decreasing just a bit. It was always easier when the two of them were together.

Their bodies were tucked close beneath the lavish sheets of the palace bedroom, the distant hum of warming magic reverberating through the walls of the castle. “That’s good.”

Vixel himself was used to the cold, due to growing up where he did. In fact he found it a rather comforting presence- it was something familiar. Something natural. Winter and the chill that came with it always seemed to remind him of his childhood. Spending nights practicing with the choir, friendly competitions with Lucretia, playing in the snow with the other children… It reminded him of home, and of his family. Something he had ruefully neglected to pay much mind to after his voice changed…

But none of that mattered much now. There was no use living in the past when the present day heralded all he had ever wanted in life.

It was quiet in the room for a bit longer, the sun’s rays only just beginning to peek through the cracks in the velvet curtains. At some point Ricardt shifted in his hold, squirming beneath the covers to turn himself around and whispering a soft apology once he’d situated himself comfortably against Vixel’s chest. His golden hair was a glorious mess, curls poking out every which way as the blond pressed his face into the crook of Vixel’s neck. An ideal hiding spot for a sleepy introvert, the conductor thought to himself, arms gently repositioning to hold Ricardt against him.

Adorable, really.

“Did you sleep well?”

At some point in their relationship Vixel had begun asking these morning questions; mindless little queries meant to help the two of them wake and prepare for the day ahead. Once Vixel had discovered how much Ricardt enjoyed just listening to him speak, however, the motive had changed a bit. He’d do anything to make Ricardt happy, and if his voice happened to be what put the smile on his face each morning? Vixel wouldn’t dare stop something so wondrous. Not when it was so hard to get the man to truly relax and enjoy living. Not when it was so hard to get him to smile without restraint, without worry. Vixel naturally recognized beauty in sound as a conductor; and one of the most gorgeous of these he had ever heard in his lifetime was the sound of Ricardt’s laughter. Beautiful and wonderful and pure and genuine and _real_ , and if he had even the slightest chance of hearing it again, he would take every risk.

His reply came in the form of a drowsy nod, a few of the unruly curls tickling at Vixel’s cheek. Somehow his hands had drifted, palms resting flat against the gentle slope of Ricardt’s back. His long fingers (excellent for piano, he could hear his sweet mother whisper) could almost span across its width completely- Ricardt wasn’t necessarily just skin and bones, but he was admittedly a bit small for a man of his age. Even if he wasn’t required to be as strong or durable as some of their more hefty mercenaries, Vixel knew that his appearance was one of the many things the man was embarrassed about. Ricardt spent a lot of time worrying about his image or his profession, and those kinds of things were not issues to be taken lightly. Vixel knew all too well what it felt like to doubt yourself. What it felt like to _hate_ yourself. By no means would he let Ricardt fight that battle alone; besides, by spending more time with the blond he was becoming an efficient distraction from his worrying. That was how it had first started, anyway. Then they had danced, then talked a bit. Then kissed. A few times. Then-

Well, it wasn’t so important, was it?

“We can go get breakfast, if you’d like,” Vixel murmured, eyes shutting to block out the sun as his fingers began to wander on their own. “Or I can go get you a tray, and we can eat in here. If you’re more comfortable with that.” He added a moment later, spiraling shapes and swirls tracing into the fabric of Ricardt’s sleep-shirt. “Or maybe we just skip breakfast today and sleep in a bit.” Vixel whispered, his own exhaustion still gently nagging at the back of his mind. He always liked to leave the question open, letting Ricardt choose how his days started. Sometimes they were good days, where the two of them would eat together in the dining hall with whomever was also awake at the time before beginning their daily activities. Sometimes it was better for just the two of them to eat together, seated at the table in the bedroom right by the window. Vixel would always be fascinated at how Ricardt enjoyed spending so much time by that window, looking down into the courtyard and watching others spar or train or just mess about while he wrote out his sermons and confessionals.

Ricardt was quiet for a few minutes, seemingly debating Vixel’s offer. Sometimes it was a hard decision. Sometimes it was easy. One of Vixel’s hands had wandered up, burying itself into the soft blonde that made up Ricardt’s hair. The smaller man seemed to lean into the touch on instinct, eyelashes fluttering against the soft skin of Vixel’s neck.

Even if it wasn't his place to say as such, it was cute.

“M-Maybe- Maybe we just…. sleep- sleep in, today…”

Bright blue eyes peeked up at him in that sheepish way they always did, rosy cheeks flushed and warm against the constellation of freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose. Vixel felt his heart stutter in his chest. Nothing would ever be better than this, he thought to himself.

“Alright,” Vixel hummed with a warm smile. “I like that. Some more sleep does sound rather nice.” Ricardt was quick to curl himself tight against Vixel’s chest, the two of them holding fast to one another as the raven-haired male channeled some magic into shutting the curtains tighter against the encroaching sun. As long as the two of them were together, time could stand still. It wouldn't matter. Not to him.

Within moments the two of them were dreaming once more, nestled in eachother’s arms, shielded against the hostilities of the world. Peace was a fleeting thing these days. It would be foolish not to take advantage of what little they had. So they did.

  
The world could wait. 


End file.
